Mouse In A Box
by F-22Raptor16
Summary: A young woman is thrown out of an aimless rut in her life when an Autobot solider crash lands on her property early one morning. But this is no ordinary Autobot. It's Prowl, and he's been shrunk to the size of a man. Now faced with the ticking clock of life or death , Ruth and Prowl must go out and find the rest of the Autobots before the Cons do.


It all started with an explosion.

Or, that's what it at first appeared as.

The early morning sky was still its best shade of navy blue, and only the brightest stars were still visible, even as the edge of the horizon brightened slightly with the lazy winter sun.

This was the one day Ruth A. Camilla's body had a day of rest, the Sabbath day. She was awake, as was her body's habit, at at five fifty eight a.m., precisely two minutes before she would normally start her day, and coincidentally, two minutes before the start of something greater.

She closed her eyes and let her mind be blank. It was a little chilly inside her room, but lazily, she made no effort to get up to grab another blanket. Her arms were sore, as were her legs and back. Ruth would just make the fire that morning a little stronger than usual. The previous day, Ruth had toiled for hours moving junk out of her grandfather's shed and storm cellar, nearly working herself to death in the bitter cold of December.

It was a moment later, as Ruth lay contemplating starting that warm fire, that a boom and rumble graced the earth in a bone rattling wave that shook the ancient wooden frame of the cabin and caused Ruth to shoot out of bed, half-alive, scrambling to throw her boots and jacket on in a dizzy rush of confusion and startlement.

Something that unnaturally loud and powerful was not normal, or good, especially that early in the morning. _Something just exploded_ , Ruth thought. There'll be a fire. Smoke. It'll catch to the woods and grass, frosted or not, her grandfather's property was about to be in flames.

Ruth burst through her front door, long johns still on, jacket loose around her body, cattleman revolver and quad keys in hand. There was no signal that far out in the country. There would be no time to call for help. The young woman sprinted towards the side shed, a swift kick to the doors splintered the wood and gave access to the four wheeler that sat before her, quiet and unassuming.

With cold, clumsy hands, Ruth jammed her keys into the ignition and twisted. And twisted. And twisted. The engine wouldn't start. Not a sound but the twisting key and Ruth's puffy breathes.

 _Time for plan B_ , she thought, yanking her keys out of the quad, Ruth ran towards the barn. Unlocking the deadbolt as quickly as she could, the young woman made a brisk walk towards the nearest stall. Peanut would do the trick. The middle-aged stallion snorted and perked up at Ruth, lazily tossing his neck as if asking, ' _what now?'_ He was a rescue, and unlike his across the barn neighbor, was not easily startled. Ruth opened the stall door and wasted no time taking a fist full of his dark mane, hoisting herself over his broad back. The grey mare across from them gave an irritated bray whiles stomping her hooves, the whites of her eyes showing in terror. She was spooked, disturbed greatly from the explosion.

Ruth took little note and instead tugged back on Peanut's mane, turning him towards the open barn doors.

She would have to scope the damage, see where the explosion had taken place, that way Ruth would know the measures she would have to take to save her animals and herself.

Ruth did not know what had happened, but as she made her way out towards the open plains, she thought she could feel an inkling in her stomach. Someone was out there.

Ruth rode Peanut, and she rode Peanut hard.

She followed the trail of smoke that rose vertically in on the edge of the horizon, at least a mile or so away from the cabin, but still on the property. The dun below her body thundered across the quiet plains, both their breathes coming out in hard, jolting, puffs of air.

As Ruth neared the sight of the ruckus, Peanut's whole demeanor suddenly changed. The stallion turned skittish, halting and pacing reluctantly in place, shying as if there was an invisible barrier he could not pass. At least thirty or so feet in front of them was a smoking crater, probably as large around as her whole cabin. Ruth could see the heat waves come off of the crater, distorting the plains and sky in a column of warmth. Peanut's ears flickerd back and he gave a deep cautious whine that reverberated beneath her. Ruth sucked in a breathe and quieted the rush of panic that plunged into her. Digging her heels in Peanut's barrel, Ruth leaned into his neck slightly. _Forward._

Peanut, in the first time since Ruth had ever had him, did not comply. It was in a horse's nature to follow. To allow itself to be led. And Peanut, out of all the horses Ruth had ever worked with, was the most fearless and the most calmest horse she ever had. A loyal, hardworking, and ever pleasant animal. But Peanut still leaned away, digging his back hooves into the frosted earth and gave another deep whiney, the end of it turning into a squealing neigh as he eyed the crater with a fear not unlike what the grey mare had in the barn.

Ruth, more than a little fearful herself, pulled the ancient revolver from the inside pocket of her jacket and clicked back the hammer before dismounting slowly on shaking legs. Whether she shook from the cold or from the shock and fear of having something smack straight down into the earth she had no idea.

Trembling, Ruth took a step towards the crater and stopped.

It was probably just a meteorite. Or a satellite that fell from space. The fear that turned to blank shock melted into a final knowing. There was no explosion. There was no nothing. Just some space junk that fell from the sky that cold morning. Ruth would take Peanut back to the barn, try to get her truck to work, and would make her way into town to notify the authorities.

That's all it was. Nothing. Nothing at all.

Ruth turned around and made her way back to where Peanut stamped nervously, tossing his mane this way and that. The sun was now officially making itself known, and it was now light enough outside to see the gigantic skid mark the object made into the earth before stopping in its crater. She stuffed the revolver back into her jacket before grabbing Peanut.

"Easy there, boy. It's alright..it's alright...you're okay, ya big baby." Ruth soothed, cupping Peanut's cheek in one hand, gently patting his neck with the other. Behind her, the light of dawn shown orange over the plains, making the long frosted grass look like it was glowing. Peanut seemed to calm somewhat underneath still shaking hands (this time she was sure it was from the cold) and his snorting breathe came out less forced, into gentler orange puffs of air. The young woman felt her lips curl up when the thought that Peanut looked like he was breathing fire came to mind.

Just as Ruth was about to take another fistful of his mane, Peanut's ears snapped back to his head and he gave a hoarse and almighty squeal and reared, nearly clipping the young woman as she fell backwards, scooting as quickly away from the frightened horse as she could. The ground was freezing, and it took only seconds for the frost to melt and seep through her thin long-john pants. Peanut threw his hooves in the air again and turned tail to gallop away. Ruth, stunned, turned around to see what had spooked her steed.

Two large black hands gripped the edges of the crater, and with mounting horror, Ruth realized there was something _alive_ in that crater. An alien, she thought. This is an alien! God almighty, there was a living thing crawling from that hole!

Her mind raced to comprehend what she was witnessing, blood suddenly rushed to her head, to her legs, to her heart. Her body felt prickly with adrenaline and fear, yet she could not make her muscles move. All she could do was watch with a sick mixture of shock and terror as a nightmare unfounded itself before her.

With a low hiss of hydraulics and grunt from a static charged vocalizer, the creature raised itself out of the crater slowly, throwing its legs over the crater's edge and onto the ruined earth with a low thud.

Ruth watched, eyes wide, ass cold, and shaking with a frozen trepidation that cemented her in place as the creature slowly raised to its height. It seemed humanoid in shape and features, but at the same time, it was completely different from anything Ruth had ever seen in her entire life.

Bright blue eyes flickered into focus, car door wings heightened up its back, and its robotic body twisted and turned, almost like it was checking itself over. Yet to Ruth, the most notable feature on the creature was the sharp, red, crest mounted on its helmet like head.

It was also very tall, but strangely enough, not as tall as she expected an alien to be. It (or was it a he?) stood about a good six feet and some inches. His chest was broad and stuck out slightly with what appeared to be the front bumper and headlights of a car, and his arms and legs were plated with the glass of what looked like car windows? He was white and black with a grey face and startling blue-white optics that flickered over to her trembling form and back behind her to her far off horse.

Its eyes seemed to dim for a few moments before suddenly brightening. A whirl, not unlike that of a high-powered computer, filled the silence as the creature walked towards Ruth, tall and natural. It moved like a human. The same posture, if not a little more dignified, and its strides were long and strong.

Ruth's heart thundered in her chest, and immediately, she started backpedaling, wanting as much distance as possible between her and the creature. It stopped, just feet away. Close enough she could now make out even smaller details. Like the fact it was frowning, covered in dents and dirt, and had the most peculiar symbol adorned on its chest. Ruth was almost hyperventilating at this point.

It opened its mouth, to speak, to form a word, a sentence. To communicate. But Ruth beat him to it, she screamed. Whatever sweet, low, country twang her voice normally held was gone when a terrible plea ripped itself from her throat.

"Please! Leave me alone!"

It came out quickly enough that her tongue had no time to stumble in fear, and Ruth could feel her voice heighten in pitch and crack, but the creature seemed to understand her message and kept its distance.

"I am not going to hurt you."

His words came out much slower, as if he was talking to a wounded animal, (and if anything, his tone had wounded a little bit of her pride), and he kneeled on one armor plated knee, reaching a black servo out to her, palm up.

"My designation is Prowl, and I need your help."

His open hand was an invitation, and his words a plea. Ruth sat frozen in place, literally and metaphorically, and contemplated the circumstances with wide, muted grey eyes.

Her physical self, body, heart, muscles, blood; screamed no. No. No. No. NO. This was dangerous. This was life threatening. What was this creature? How did it speak english? Perfectly and deep. Where did it come from? What help could it possibly need? Could she trust it as easily as it was perhaps trying to trust her?

But something deeper inside of Ruth, something less old, less new, less physical and more intuitive, whispered that there was something more to this robotic creature. Something greater functioning beyond her short, comprehensible, reach. Ruth got the unexpected feeling that she was a little mouse, trapped between the thin walls of a powerful machine. The cogs and wheels turned, the engine roared distantly, and there was a gigantic knowing that something so much greater was happening, but it was dark and loud and separated from Ruth's understanding of her current world and life.

It took perhaps a few moments more before Ruth reached a trembling hand out to tightly grasp the creature's own.

They locked eyes for a moment, hands together, in orange dawn light. There was a second in which the creature's cool, knowing, eyes dimmed then brightened again, and suddenly Ruth was pulled up to her feet with the creature.

He let go of her hand, and Ruth was surprised to notice that his robotic servo was very much warm, almost hot to the touch, and not quite as hard and rigid as she thought it would be.

They stood awkwardly together in the middle of the frozen plains, Ruth shivering hard as the cold and adrenaline finally hit her full force, and the creature, Prowl, studying her intently. She took a deep breath in, attempting to gather her wits and calm the wild beating of her fearful heart.

"I'm Ruth, and I'm freezin' my ass off." Ruth paused for a moment, realizing she had said the second part out loud. Prowl only nodded.

"Let's go home." Ruth said roughly, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. She turned away from the creature and scanned the area where Peanut had run off to.

This was the start to what would be a very long and more than usually tedious day.

Eventually, after lots of coaxing, and having to make Prowl stay several hundred feet behind them both, Ruth was able to find and calm Peanut down enough to ride back to the cabin.

"Sorry it took a bit to get Peanut back," Ruth said as she closed and locked the stallion's stall. She turned around and almost walked face first into the creature's chest. Ruth shooed him back, mumbling ' _personal space, buddy'_ , before she gave a quick check on the grey mare.

"It is okay. I understand I...scared your animal away? I must apologize for almost injuring you in that incident." Prowl spoke, watching with keen blue-white optics as Ruth eyed both horses.

Deciding that the horses could go for a little longer before being fed, Ruth left the barn, Prowl right beside her.

Ruth glanced at him before opening the cabin door. "That's alright, Prowl. But uh, you might want to stay away from the barn for a while. Peanut and that mare sure don't like you very much." She walked in before he could reply. Ruth found herself thinking of how odd it was, speaking so easily to an alien robot.

She hung her coat up on a hook by the front door and after ushering Prowl inside, she closed the door, shivering hard enough her muscles began to ache. Prowl took immediate notice of this.

"My sensors indicate that your temperature is low. Your muscles are attempting to compensate for this. You must warm yourself." Prowl moved aside as Ruth hurried over to the fire place. It was a relatively small cabin. There was a kitchen, a small living space, two bedrooms upstairs and a single bathroom upstairs as well. She started the fire, sighing in relief as the warmth hit her.

"Yeah, I know. Let me change, I'll get some coffee going, then we can talk."

Ruth squatted in front of the fire place a few moments longer before turning back to look at Prowl, standing with his arms placed at his side.

"How does that sound?"

Prowl nodded his helm at her, the sharp, red, crest flashing.

"Acceptable. But please do not take too long. There is much we need to do."

Ruth stifled a sigh before getting up, stretching, she replied, "yeah, yeah, I'll be quick."

True to her word, Ruth was in fact quick. She changed into some clean, dry, clothes. Jeans and a long sleeve. Then, after brushing her hair back into a bun, cleaning herself up some, she went downstairs and started brewing coffee.

The warm scent flooded the air, and Ruth was more than aware of her hungry stomach as she thought of poor Peanut and the grey mare. They were probably pretty hungry too, and it was far past their usual feeding time.

Ruth made a noise of defeat before going over to sit at the tiny wooden dining table. She motioned for Prowl to sit across from her. He did so hesitantly, listening as the wooden chair creaked and bowed slightly underneath his weight. After settling down at the table, Prowl looked up at Ruth.

"You understandably have a lot of questions for me, do you not?" Prowl drawled, his voice fine, cultured in a competent, cool way. Ruth felt herself twitch. City boy speak.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Prowl leaned back from the table and crossed his heavy arms across his chest. How he managed to so with his large frame, Ruth had not a clue. .

"Where are you from?"

"The planet Cybertron."

"How did you get here?"

"Crashed emergency escape pod."

"Why are you here?"

"Our ship was attacked. Like I mentioned before, I took an escape pod."

"Ship? Attacked? Who do you belong to? Who was attacking you?" Ruth's brow furrowed.

"Our ship is the Ark. I am a strategist and enforcer for the Autobots, the Decepticons, our enemies, crippled our ship."

"So you're a soldier in a war?"

Prowl paused for a moment before answering.

"Yes. You could say that."

Ruth stared at him.

"Huh. Okay, well..What are you? Do you have a last name?"

"I am a Cybertronian. No, I do not have a 'last' name. My first and only designation is Prowl."

Ruth was silent at that. With most of her curiosity sated, she got up from the table. But one thought tripped her. Autobots. War. Attack. What if Prowl was the bad guy in all of this? What if he would bring holy hell fire from whoever (or whatever) was out to get him? Could she be in danger just by coming in contact with an alien soldier?

"Does that answer all of your questions, Ruth?"

She poured two cups of coffee, taking both mugs, she sat one in front of Prowl and turned around to dig in the dusty cupboards.

"Yeah, for now." She lied. It would take a while for her to try and feel this creature out. More than anything Ruth wanted to interrogate the alien about what he had mentioned, but decided to bite her tongue. It might to more harm than good to be so blatantly obvious with her concerns.

Prowl raised an optical ridge and regarded her for a moment with his cold blue optics. Ruth prayed that he couldn't sense her fib.

"Well, if we have gotten your curiosities out of the way, would you mind if I asked a few questions of my own?"

Sighing in discontent of what was in the cupboards, Ruth turned around and sat back at the table. She took a long swig of her coffee before answering.

"Yeah, shoot."

Prowl uncrossed his arms and leaned forward on the table, carefully setting aside his mug of steaming coffee. His optics suddenly seemed sharper than they had before, and faintly, Ruth thought she could almost make out circles like that of actual eyes behind the glowing blue lenses.

The young woman shifted uncomfortably for a moment before steeling herself. _He has every right to ask me question_ s, she told herself.

Prowl dove straight in.

"Where are we currently located?"

"Eastern Plains of Colorado, near Strauss."

Prowl's optics dimmed again before coming back with greater intensity.

"Near Strauss? We are about 10 'miles' out from this town."

Ruth nodded dumbly, but inwardly was surprised. How did he know that?

"Yes. Strauss is about the nearest piece of civilization, but I'd hardly call it a town. More like a village. After Strauss is Handson City and a smattering of podunk towns."

Prowl's optics dimmed again. Ruth decided to call the phenomenon 'phone eyes,' like how her phone would dim after no use for a while. Wisely, she kept that to herself and wondered if he was looking up the information when his eyes were like that.

Prowl nodded again and continued.

"What is your full designation, how old are you, and is this your permanent residence?"

Ruth, taken back from the onslaught of queries, took a moment to answer.

"Well, uh, my full name is Ruth Camilla, I'm twenty three, and..well, I don't know yet."

Prowl, unsatisfied with her response, pressed further.

"It comes to my understanding that humans usually have a middle name? And what exactly do you mean, 'you don't know yet' of your residence? Do you live here permanently or somewhere else? Is this even your property?"

Ruth did not appreciate the sharp tone of his voice, and the condescending way he phrased his questions made her feel like a suspect in an interrogation room. Another part of her, the physical, human, scared part, seethed with suspicion. There was a reason why he needed this information. Just what exactly was his intent? Ruth felt like she should've been more scared and shocked at the events of that morning than she was, but the young woman was tired, cold, and hungry and in no mood to allow herself to continue feeling shock and fear. It would only clamber about in her head and slow her down.

"Prowl, forgive me for bein' rude, but, uh, do you usually speak to people that try and help you out like that?"

It came out softly, almost cautiously, and Ruth mentally kicked herself for not saying it stronger, but it had its desired effect.

Prowl looked startled for a moment before his usual cool demeanor came rushing back. His next words came out calculated, expected.

"It was not my intention to offend you, Miss Camilla, if I may call you by that name."

He paused to make eye contact with Ruth. Inwardly, she swore.

"I am asking for security purposes. My arrival to your planet will not go unnoticed, and it is imperative that I have any and all details in regards to our circumstances."

Ruth swallowed. He was right. But she was still wary and decided she would test her luck.

"I understand that, but...I-who, I mean.." Ruth stumbled looking for the right words, twisting her hands around her hot mug, her eyes suddenly couldn't meet his. Prowl stayed silent and let her try to gather her thoughts.

Ruth finally looked up and met his optics again.

"How do I know you aren't, ya know, a 'bad guy'? So to speak? What war are you runnin' from and what do you mean 'our' circumstances?"

Something akin to a sigh seeped from his vents, the warm air hitting Ruth in the face. The young woman leaned away from the table nervously, the mug of coffee in her hands feeling suddenly heavy. She wondered how much time she would have if she threw it and ran. Make it to Peanut. Get the hell out of dodge.

Prowl seemed to read her mind and put his hands up slowly.

"Miss Camilla. I mean you and your planet no harm whatsoever. I can explain my war and my faction, but please, calm down. There is no need to be afraid of me."

Ruth swallowed back a thick wad of fear and paranoia and allowed him to speak.

The rest of the morning was spent talking, asking questions, explaining answers.

Slowly, very slowly, Ruth started to feel more at ease with Prowl.

Not that he was a particularly likeable bot, with his 'city-boy' speaking, and his intense blue-white optics always finding a way underneath Ruth. His tone occasionally dipped sharp, and some of his phrasing appeared almost loftful, but Ruth and him seemed to get along relatively okay. There was a fine bit of respect she felt herself compelled to have for Prowl, after he fully explained his plight and his circumstances.

After the Ark was attacked, an explosion inside occurred. But not a traditional explosion. More like a shockwave accompanied by a sudden shift in mass-displacement. Some Autobots were shrunk, all to varying degrees. All of them barely managed to escape, _just by the skin of their teeth,_ Ruth thought. The smaller Autobots were scooped up by their larger comrades and taken into pods, but somehow Prowl managed fine on his own after being shrunk down to a human's size.

Prowl had mentioned he theorized the 'explosion' came from one of their spies, Mirage's, mass-displacers coming into contact with a direct laser shot. It wasn't uncommon technology. It was used to change a bot's size, whether for transformation purposes or espionage, it came in handy to gather information in tight places or for bots like his comrade, Blaster, to transform into his respective boom-box alt mode.

Ruth nodded along, but truth be told, it was confusing for her. It was a lot. The more time she spent talking with Prowl at that table, the more overwhelming all of it became.

Ruth sunk back in her chair, mug of coffee long since drained, and stared hard at the worn kitchen tiles.

"So, what you're sayin' is you need to go and find your...friends..and y'all will leave? Be gone? Do you need my help in any way? There has to be something I can do for you and your folks."

Prowl, sensing Ruth's impending distress and possible breakdown, nodded, and stood up from the table.

"Yes, that is a very simple way of putting it. However, Miss Camilla, I want you to have as little of a role as possible in this situation. This is dangerous. Far too dangerous for a human such as yourself. It is risky enough you allowing me into your abode. As far as your help goes, all I need is a little bit of your time. Nothing substantial."

That did not make Ruth feel any better. The feeling of being a trapped mouse in a big machine came back again. The young woman felt herself grip the table to keep from sliding out of her chair and into a puddle on the floor.

Prowl calmly walked over and hesitated for a moment before lightly placing a servo on her shaking shoulder.

"Conversely, Miss Camilla, it should also be noted that as an Autobot, I will do my very best to not let any danger come upon you. I wish you had no part in this mess, but unfortunately you do. But at the very least, it is extremely temporary. I will be gone by tomorrow at the latest, if not later this evening."

"All I ask, as much as I would like to not, is if you please allow me to stay at your residence, at least for the day. I will make contact with another one of my kind and will be on my way."

Ruth looked up at him. The moment seemed to stretch in time, though it lasted less than a second. But within that second, Ruth felt something warm and something still wash over her. Through his servo an invisible spark flew and hit the smoldering remains of what was her hope. A sense of great intuition enveloped Ruth for the second time that day and the feeling of that mouse nosing about in between the walls became very keen. There was a greater purpose for herself, Ruth could feel it. She knew it ever since Prowl had crashed there that morning.

Sadly, she reflected, Prowl was wrong. Ruth's role was anything but temporary.

Prowl's servo fell away from her shoulder as Ruth stood up.

"I wish."


End file.
